A Second Shot
by sufficientlyobscure
Summary: On her twenty-third birthday, Hermione runs into the last person she wants to see, and it turns her world upside down.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note**: If you haven't already, I would suggest first reading An Unlikely Pairing seeing as this is its sequel. It's short and takes place during HBP. Now, here we are a few years post-Hogwarts…

_Headmistress McGonagall,_

_I am pleased to report that three newly freed house elves have been approved to work at Hogwarts. Gerda, Keely and Wanda will report one week before second term begins for the wages we previously discussed. I hope all is well._

_Hermione Granger_

_Head of the Being Division, _

_Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures_

Hermione smiled as she rolled her parchment. Finally allowing free house elves to obtain work permits was a major accomplishment for her. It took nearly two years of paper work and convincing, but she succeeded. Such a huge step also awarded her a promotion to the head of the being division. It was only a matter of time before she would be promoted again and relocated to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, where she could really make progress for the rights of house elves. She checked her watch; she had just enough time to run her letter to the owlery before Ron and Harry came to fetch her. Today, Hermione turned twenty-three, and the whole gang decided a get together tonight was necessary.

Since graduating Hogwarts, which happened a year later than it should have thanks to the war, Hermione's life seemed perfect. All three friends joined the Ministry—Harry and Ron becoming Aurors—and all three vowed to make it a better place. It might take years, they agreed, but reforming Great Britain's governing body was a must, and they were heading in the right direction with Kingsley Shacklebolt as Minister. She felt she had a purpose. One aside from defeating Voldemort. She gained quite a bit of notoriety once it all ended. People she never met thanked her in the streets, and reporters swarmed her for the inside scoop of what happened that last year. The attention died down, but Hermione always flinched when she saw that spark of recognition when she first introduced herself. It was over, and she'd rather talk about expanding SPEW than destroying horcuxes.

She navigated her way to the owlery with ease. She began working for the department right after she finished Hogwarts, nearly as long as she and Ron had been dating. They celebrated four years together in May. It took seven years to figure out they loved each other, but she was thankful they did. Hermione smiled at the thought of their first kiss. He betrayed her by abandoning them that year, but Ron came back a better and stronger man. The two tried to put their feelings aside, there were more pressing issues, but in the end, it couldn't be helped.

Hermione fastened the letter to an owl, whispered instructions and led it to the window. She turned to exit but gasped at a looming dark figure in the doorway.

"So sorry," she began with a weak laugh, "You startled—"

"Hermione?"

The figure stepped forward into the light of the room, and Hermione felt her stomach drop. Her first reaction was to escape, to run, to get the hell out of the tower. Her hand darted to the wand concealed in her pocket, but she stilled herself before drawing.

"Malfoy, what are you doing _here_?" she managed to croak.

Draco Malfoy, now twenty-two, raised a piece of parchment in his hand as explanation. He smiled, not the smirk she remembered, but a genuine smile. Hermione certainly found him attractive during their schools years, and now, he seemed to grow up well. His hair was shorter and styled, his suit casual and not completely black. He continued forward, fastening his letter onto an owl while Hermione stood in a stunned silence.

"I needed a permit. Importing a few things internationally," he said while moving the owl to the window. Hermione scooted closer to the door. "My father bought Borgin and Burkes. I suppose you don't get down to Knockturn Alley often."

"Or ever," she said sharply, her grip tightening on the base of her wand. "My kind is still not welcomed among certain circles."

Malfoy did not respond. He leaned against a wall, hands in pockets, and observed Hermione with a bemused grin. Self-consciously she smoothed her dark locks. Her hair was no longer bushy, but even after years of taming it she couldn't help but remember her awkward Hogwarts days. Certain school year memories never did completely leave. She found herself fighting a blush at the recollection of their sixth year. Her eyes locked with Draco's. Obviously he was recalling the same occurrence, but instead of the embarrassment she felt, he exuded smugness.

A few months after their two times together, the whole world seemed to explode. Harry, who she deemed paranoid, had been completely and utterly correct. Draco Malfoy was a Death Eater. He played a part in Dumbledore's death, and he allowed a horde of Voldemort's followers into Hogwarts. Yes, he had been in over his head, and yes, he was manipulated… But to Hermione's grief and rage that did not matter. His goal was to please the Dark Lord, and she completely missed it. Even when he stood in front of her naked, she did not see his dark mark.

"You know, we barely even kissed," Malfoy said, pushing off the wall.

"Oh, _please,_" Hermione scoffed. The memories tugged at her temper, but his casual attitude fueled her anger. "Draco, we were sixteen. I may have been too shy to recognize it then but not anymore. It meant nothing. It was exciting because we hated each other. _It happened twice. _We weren't our firsts, and we obviously weren't each other's lasts."

Draco laughed. "So, you told Weasley?"

She paled. A frown contorted her face. Could he show some human decency and at least _pretend_ to forget their encounter? She did. Which is why mentioning it to Ron seemed unnecessary. He wouldn't speak to her for a week after she confessed she lost her virginity to Viktor Krum. Adding Draco Malfoy into the equation would not have been wise. Though she loved Ron, their relationship certainly lacked solid communication. She felt required to tiptoe around issues that would upset him because his temper was so easily ignited. Malfoy definitely fell into that category. Plus, it seemed so long ago… and she never thought she'd see him again.

Laughter erupted in the stairwell; Ron and Harry entered the room in the midst of a joke, their faces stretched in smiles. Both stopped at Hermione's uncomfortable look.

She opened her mouth to explain when she was interrupted: "She wasn't happy to see me. Do I get a warmer welcome from you two?" Draco said, the familiar sixteen-year-old cockiness back in his voice. He stepped closer to them, his arms opened as if expecting an embrace.

"Malfoy," spat Ron. His dislike bubbled over immediately. The blond-haired boy stirred up many unpleasant feelings. "How did you manage to stay out of Azkaban?"

He smiled, but Hermione could see his body grow tense. She didn't know if he regretted his actions, but she was sure he didn't like to be reminded of them. "Well, if you remember, I switched sides…"

"At the end," Ron said.

"After you tried to kill Harry one last time," Hermione added. Silence followed. Years of competition, rude comments, and fighting built up to this confrontation.

"No," Harry said after a long pause, diffusing the tension with a wave of his hand. "Malfoy—Draco, I understand." He shook his head at the other two's shocked expressions. Harry Potter _did _understand. He spent his entire time at Hogwarts greatly disliking the Slytherin. Throughout their sixth year, he was obsessed with proving he was a Death Eater, but when he was correct, there was no satisfaction.

With his father imprisoned, Malfoy was in a desperate situation, and he turned to a powerful wizard his family followed. He needed to impress and the whole process nearly destroyed him. He knew Draco could not have killed Dumbledore. Plus, Harry would never forget the moment at the manor when he did not identify him as Harry Potter. It could have ended there. These weren't excuses, but he did _understand._

Once he became an official Auror, he couldn't resist checking up on the Malfoys. They were still wealthy, but their name meant nothing now. Especially not among the darker circles. Lucius purchased Borgin and Burkes after Mr. Borgin died, and Draco worked there since the beginning. They made a modest profit, and the entire operation was run legally. Harry made certain of that.

"A bunch of us are meeting at the Leaky Cauldron for Hermione's birthday tonight. You should stop by for a while. Clear the air. It might be worth it," Harry said.

Draco looked as confused and surprised as Hermione and Ron. He was obviously stunned. None of them expected Harry's understanding or his unauthorized invitation. Malfoy was at a loss for words. He nodded slightly, quietly excused himself and bolted out of the owlery.

"Harry?" Hermione said quietly. "Why?"

"Everyone deserves a second shot, Hermione."


	2. Chapter 2

It almost felt like old times. The familiar faces around the table were joking and laughing. The weight of the world finally lifted from everyone's shoulders. She could easily picture them at the Gryffindor table, though sadly some were absent. Hermione leaned back into her chair, a glass of wine in hand, and allowed herself to relax. It looked like Malfoy was not going to show after all. She almost felt bad for that immense relief, but she justified that it was her birthday, and those seeking redemption could do so another time.

George and Angelina Weasley sat to her left, amusing a work friend of Hermione's with details of their recent home buying attempt. When the war ended, Angelina Johnson sought comfort in the brother of her former boyfriend. Initially no one knew how to react, all subjects involving the late Fred were too painful to address. But the two obviously needed each other, and within a year they were engaged. Now, they were expecting their first child.

On her other side, Ginny celebrated the fact that Fleur was too busy with her two-year-old daughter to attend any social gatherings. She complained, though, that 'Phelgm' managed to get her figure back within a month of giving birth to Victoire. She decided it had to be magic, definitely magic, which was never good to use for personal gain.

"You can tell she's bitter when she resorts back to Phelgm," Harry said quietly.

Across the table, Neville Longbottom seemed to be in deep discussion with Ron over research he was conducting in Greece about the dittany plant. Ron seemed genuinely interested, seeing as its healing properties saved him after splinching years ago. Luna Lovegood, official naturalist of the wizarding world, was in Germany searching for proof that Nargles truly existed. On occasion, Hermione received a postcard relaying her progress, and it looked like she would not be returning to England for some time.

"Hermione," Neville said suddenly. "I nearly forgot! Are you planning on visiting Hogwarts?"

"Oh, yes," she responded with a smile. "For arithmancy. Professor Vector sent me an owl last month."

Ron stared at Hermione from across the table. He appeared utterly confused, and her heart sank. She forgot to tell him. She glanced to Harry who shared her guilty expression. Both of them and Neville had been invited by the school to speak about their careers. Neville would be talking to the Herbology classes and Harry to Defense Against the Dark Arts. Unfortunately, Ron did not receive an invitation. She put off telling him until she legitimately forgot.

"I'm sorry, Ron. I… well, Harry and I are going to speak to… It really isn't a big deal. I mean, they just want me to explain how I used arithmancy… and…"

Ron slowly shook his head, "I'm a bloody Auror, too."

The table quieted, even George had the right sense to stay mute on the issue. The subject of talent and respect always managed to hit a sore spot with Ron, who dealt with the issue since first meeting Harry Potter. At school, he certainly felt it from both his best friends. One would always be famous, the other always the best and brightest. He thought the effects would wear off. He helped destroy Voldemort, the whole world knew his name, but still, there was no one as good as…

"Harry Potter," came a loud, slurred voice. "That's why you weren't invited, you fool. He's still the Chosen One after all this time. And probably the better Auror. No Weasley could ever amount to much."

Draco Malfoy stumbled to their table with a very uncomfortable girl on his arm. Hermione recognized her as Daphne Greengrass, a Slytherin from their year. She dressed nicely for the evening, especially compared to her partner whose shirt was untucked and incorrectly buttoned. He obviously started his party a few hours earlier. When spotting the table full of Gryffindors, Daphne's eyes widened and she hissed something in Draco's ear. He laughed and said, "No. I never said they were friends. I said _school mates._"

"I think even mates might be pushing it a bit far," George said, still reeling about the Weasley insult.

Ginny stood, biting back the seething comments and forced a smile. "Daphne, right? I knew your sister. Lovely lady for a Slytherin. Sit. Maybe we can fix this bladdered mess?"

Hermione sat frozen, her expression momentarily stuck in absolute horror. From Ron's anger to Malfoy's appearance, she felt out of sorts. She turned to Ginny who gave her a reassuring nod. When Hermione officially graduated from Hogwarts, she had been in Ginny's year. The two girls were already close, but by that point she'd been dating Ron, and their bond grew sisterly. After telling her boyfriend she lost her virginity to Viktor Krum, and the ridiculous fight then separation that ensued, Hermione confessed everything to the female redhead. She promised not to divulge any of the information but urged her to tell Ron about Draco.

Hermione did not take that advice. She convinced herself that if he couldn't understand the nice and talented Viktor Krum, he absolutely could not handle their biggest nemesis. She cringed at the situation.

Draco slumped into one of the chairs while Daphne tried to look as polite as possible. She had been close friends with Pansy Parkinson during school so she'd heard of a lot of hatred towards Harry Potter and his gang. And contributed a bit. She cleared her throat, wondering if they knew she took part in it.

"You knew Astoria, you said?" she asked Ginny, desperate for the table to begin conversing again. Maybe they'd forget she was a Slytherin. If she could pretend to be okay talking with blood traitors and that awful Hermione Granger, they could make the effort too.

"She was a year below me, but sure," Ginny said.

Ron let out a gruff laugh. "Is this for real? Are we really talking with these two?"

Daphne Greengrass stood, her dark eyes blazing at Ron. She had far too much self-respect to endure this company any longer. She gestured for Draco, who'd been in a silent drunken haze since he sat, to rise. He stared up at her with bleary eyes. _He_ dragged _her_ here, and now he seemed too lost to even move.

"Are you coming?" she asked.

"No," he responded simply. "You know, I always preferred your sister, really."

The girl's fire dissipated. She abruptly turned and trotted towards the bathroom. The whole table, even Ron, looked mortified by Malfoy's words. Hermione got up and followed the distraught Slytherin. She felt responsible since it was her party, but she had the distinct feeling that Daphne would rather not hear any comfort from her. She hurried down the small corridor, but before she even managed to reach the door, a hand grabbed her shoulder.

"Wait, wait, wait," Draco murmured. "I came here to talk to you. I hated you. I thought the world would be better without you."

"Are you mad?" Hermione said, pushing his hand from her.

"No. I'm saying this wrong. I did hate you until we were together."

"Together is a very loose term, Malfoy."

"Yeah, I know. I was in such a horrible spot that year, but you…" he said.

Draco grabbed her hand and seemed very encouraged when she did not pull away. He knew he was drunk, but he felt amazing for finally speaking these words. He placed Hermione on a pedestal after they were together, and he would explode if he had to keep this in any longer. Especially after seeing her earlier. The feelings he crushed down and hidden for years ruptured when he saw her startled face in the owlery.

"I'm not trying to say I want to fuck you again," he said, ignoring her flinch at the crude word, "I just needed to…"

"_Fuck again?"_ came another voice, and Hermione ripped her hands away from the blond. The voice repeated the sentiment, this time more rage slipping through, "Again? Fuck _again?" _

Ron looked torn between punching a hole in the wall and crying. He never was much of a crier, so she thought the physical reaction would win. She took a step forward, trying to make it more difficult for him to approach Draco, her eyes flicking to their wand hands. She did not want a fight to break out between the two. Magic with the intent to harm was one hundred percent prohibited.

He looked at her pleadingly, wanting her to disprove what he'd heard. She inhaled deeply. She never actually lied to Ron. Sure, she excluded this part of her sexual history, but he never asked if she had other partners. Now that it was out there, she refused to make an excuse.

"Ron, we should leave," she said. "Talk about this privately."

"No. I think it would be best for me to hear about you _fucking_ Draco Malfoy right here."

Hermione stole a glance over her shoulder to see Malfoy with a smile plastered on his face. She grabbed his jacket and pushed him past Ron, telling him in not so kind words to leave the premises. It would be easier to explain to her boyfriend what happened without that awful smirk displayed behind her. Draco took a few unsure steps forward before apparating away.

"Okay, Ron. Yes, we did sleep together…"

"When?" he demanded, a lost look replacing the anger in his eyes.

"In sixth year. When you were dating Lavender. It was only twice, and I knew it was an awful mistake. Today was the first time I've seen him since Voldemort died."

Ron nodded. He took in all of her words, but his hurt feelings and jealousy wanted him to react poorly. He believed that it had only been twice when they were young but that really didn't matter. Draco Malfoy, of all people, had been inside his girlfriend. Draco Malfoy touched Hermione before he did. He almost laughed. Without another word, Ron Weasley turned away from her and left the bar.


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione tracked Ron down at the Burrow less than twenty-four hours after the incident. She prepared herself to feel utter hatred from the entire family, but the only person she encountered was Mr. Weasley. He politely explained that their youngest son wasn't up to seeing her quite yet, and he would contact her when the time was right. Before gently closing the door, Mr. Weasley placed a hand on her shoulder and gave a tight, sad smile. It took her a week before she gave up the idle approach and her attempt at professionalism (she previously vowed not to confront him at the Ministry). When she hurried down two levels to the Auror department, she found his desk empty.

Ron quit the day before, Harry filled her in later. He already took a job with his brother at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, the successful joke shop George had been running solo since the war ended. She thought it was so spontaneous, but as she found out, he'd been talking about going into the business for at least six months. Hermione felt betrayed. Not once did such an important notion make its way into their conversations. Was he nervous she wouldn't support him leaving the Ministry of Magic? Just as she thought he would never understand her choice in sexual partners?

Her heart clenched, and she desperately tried to fight the emotions attacking her. Between her complete sadness and the realization of how little trust there had been in her relationship, Hermione endured overwhelming guilt. At first the guilt hit her because she refrained from enlightening Ron about her history with Draco, but then… they had been so right about each other. She never could have gotten behind him throwing all those years of stressful progress as an Auror away. She couldn't manage to see it through his eyes, and he could never understand what drove her to Draco Malfoy.

It took her one month to finally give up. She sent him owl after owl with no reply, but her hopes didn't dampen. She was convinced that if she explained, apologized, and focused on how to strengthen their relationship, every wrong would right itself. Obviously they would work on communication and trust which would slowly reinforce their temporarily shaky bond.

Hermione and Harry apparated into Hogsmeade on the day of their lectures at Hogwarts. They arrived early to enjoy a butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks and to then leisurely walk the long trek up to the castle. Hermione sighed contently at the familiar surroundings. The leaves of the Forbidden Forest were brilliant shades of red and orange, and she found herself hoping that Hagrid already began decorating for Halloween.

When the spires popped into the horizon, she turned to Harry, "I'm surprised you never considered teaching here."

"I think about it occasionally," he responded, surprisingly sad to her ears. "Hogwarts was my home. It's the first place I ever experienced lasting happiness. Still, I think about Voldemort coming back here… trying to teach."

"No, Harry, no. It isn't the same. He wanted to corrupt the students here," Hermione countered quickly.

"Part of it was that," he admitted. "But Hogwarts was the first place he was happy too. I saw. Sometimes it's better to leave the past where it is. In case you haven't noticed, I'm damn good at my job." She managed a laugh at his smug tone, but his face turned suddenly serious again. She missed the brief smile immediately.

"I, uh, need to let you know something," Harry began. "Ron started seeing someone. Katie Bell, actually."

"Katie Bell," Hermione formed the words slowly.

"You remember..."

"From Quidditch, yes, of course. Pretty, blonde, _older._"

"Angelina and her still keep in touch. I guess she wandered into the shop," Harry said. He and Ginny debated on when to break the news. No time seemed appropriate, and Ron legitimately did not seem to care how she found out. The more pain the better, he figured, but Harry could not let that course of action take root. "It's recent, but…"

"But," she repeated, knowing but needing to hear.

"They've been intimate," he finished lamely. He and Hermione always managed to talk openly about the ins and outs of their relationships. Even the sexual aspects. He certainly couldn't turn to his other best friend on these subjects since the woman (the only woman ever, actually) he was sleeping with happened to be Ron's sister. This was a whole new level of awful and awkward that they'd never experienced. "I'm sorry."

Hermione nodded resolutely and continued the short distance to the castle doors. She felt the tears begin to flow, and Harry was by her side in an instant. He pulled her into a hug, thinking of how worried he'd been when he noticed his best friends liked each other. He was terrified what would happen if they broke up. He was furious that Ron ignored Hermione's attempts at reconciliation, and he was disappointed in her for hiding something so important.

"There's one more thing," he said into her hair. He felt her body quake in anticipation for the worst. "I knew about you and Malfoy."

A dozen questions popped into her head. At school she was terrified he would see her on the Marauder's Map, but he never said anything. That Harry and the one before her were very different people. She had no doubt he would have confronted her immediately, and if her excuse wasn't convincing, accusations would abound. She never recorded her feelings anywhere, barely spoke of them. Expect for…

"Ginny!" Hermione shouted in frustration.

"Don't be cross with her," he quickly said. "We don't hide anything from each other. And really, you should have told Ron about it years ago. Not that I think his actions now aren't idiotic."

Hermione tried to muster rage, but it wasn't in her. She made a mistake by hiding her shame when she should have been open in the first place. She only nodded weakly and entered Hogwarts. It was then that she decided if Ron could move on so easily, she would stop pursuing him. The tight knot that had been present in her chest since Malfoy first reappeared began to loosen. Everything was out, no more secrets to hide. Her pain and regret was not trivial, but the constant anxiety that had been just below the surface dissipated.

The rest of the day went along without a hiccup. She managed to push the shambles of her love life aside while she explained to the current students of Hogwarts what she did and how arithmancy enriched her work. Harry's talk with the O.W.L. and N.E.W.T Defense Against the Dark Arts class was a huge hit, of course. He even produced his stag patronus at the request of the new professor, which dazzled the teenagers.

Neville caught up with the two while they were chatting with Dennis Creevey. After being pulled out of Hogwarts during the war, the younger Creevey brother was on his final year. Harry managed to keep in touch since the loss of Collin, a death that still hung on his conscience. Neville buzzed with excitement and pulled his two friends away from the crowd of people.

"Professor Sprout told me, in confidence, that she plans to retire," he said, nearly bouncing.

Hermione and Harry exchanged a look. Everyone knew Sprout had been close with Neville and his joy came off quite misplaced. He shook his head furiously at their confusion, "She asked me to interview! Me! A herbology professor!"

"Blimey, Neville!" Harry exclaimed with a clap on his friend's back. "I think this calls for a celebration."

"Well, I haven't gotten the job yet, only an interview," he replied sheepishly.

"Nonsense!" Hermione interrupted, placing both her arms around the two men. She could use a distraction. "Let's make a stop at the Hog's Head before heading home."

The month following the "incident" went poorly for Draco Malfoy. His day-to-day life stayed quite normal: he spent most of his day working at Borgin and Burkes and his evenings either alone or with a small group of friends. The problem occurred when he had a moment to think. He would be fetching an item for a customer when the cruel things he said to Daphne popped into his head. They were true—he really did find her sister Astoria much funnier and prettier—but what decent human being could actually say that? His cowardice got the better of him that night, and he turned to drinking in an attempt to find some false courage. Rather than guts, his drunkenness only inflated his ego.

At night before he fell asleep turned out to be the hardest time for him. When there were no distractions the disgusted look on Hermione's face plagued him. Even worse, he began remembering their times together at Hogwarts. The mixture of remorse and arousal drove him insane. In an attempt for solace, he analyzed his decisions then, but that only led to further insomnia.

As a Death Eater, Draco truly found himself stuck between his developing conscience and Voldemort. Throughout his youth his father pounded the ideals of protecting the purity of the wizard race and quietly preached the Dark Lord's praises. Draco wanted to believe he only fixed the vanishing cabinet for his family's protection, but that was a lie too large to hide. He believed blindly and passionately that purebloods were superior and that their lives held a higher value. He even thought that murdering Albus Dumbledore would be a guilt-free task. He sent the cursed charm and the poisoned wine, and he felt ultimate fear and regret when he stood with his wand pointed at the powerful wizard. Though he never said the words, he knew he was responsible for the headmaster's death. That brought an unease that doubled and never left when Harry Potter showed him kindness in the owlery.

Thinking back, Malfoy wasn't surprised that he found a way to relieve the crushing tension. It only happened twice but being with Hermione Granger left a lasting impression. After their two nights of detention, they were never alone again. Her group of friends mended itself, and his responsibilities placed everything else on the back burner.

"Son," Lucius Malfoy called from the back room, breaking Draco's reverie. "There are a few items I need you to bring by Dervish and Banges. They will be assessing them for us."

"Not Wisacre's?" he asked sullenly. A trip down the block would be much quicker than to Hogsmeade.

"Certainly not. Their name is far too accurate," his father said dryly. He handed his son a wooden box. "You will not be needed after you deliver this."

Draco apparrated out, not bothering with the pleasantries of a farewell. He cared for his father, of course, but the bleary-eyed idolization faded years ago. Dervish and Banges conducted their business swiftly, and after discussing the cost and a future meeting date, he was free. The swinging sign of the Hog's Head caught his notice. He entered the bar with the intention of a quick drink before calling on a few friends, but the sight at the back of the room ruined his plan. Hermione, Harry and Neville were sitting at a table together, raucously laughing with the familiar looking bartender. The unease, the anxiety, the dread, the guilt he held bubbled over at the sight. He wanted to turn and leave, but he was a moth to their flame. He reckoned it might be his one chance to redeem himself and only hoped that three wands wouldn't be pointed his way.

Draco managed a nervous smile as he approached. Neville noticed the blond first: his face still brightened by laughter turned to a look of bewilderment. His jaw slackened, and he gently tugged at Hermione's arm. Both her and Harry had their backs to Malfoy, and she glanced over her shoulder curiously at Neville's insistence. Her whole body tensed at the sight of him, and she mutely stared, unable to react. He noted that this tended to be her most common reaction around him.

"A bottle of Odgens, please," Draco said, addressing the bartender. He cleared his throat. "Four glasses."


	4. Chapter 4

"And we found that this whole village drank gillywater," Neville paused mid-story to catch his breath. He gave a brief chuckle before plunging into the conclusion. "Their gillyweed to water ratio was far too high! Everyone was diving into the river for hours because they kept growing gills."

Harry raised a hand to his neck, "That is an experience I can relate to, Neville."

The table let out a far too appreciative and loud laugh, glasses clinked together, tears wiped. They'd been at it for hours and whatever tension existed disappeared after the third or fourth shot of firewhiskey. Draco leaned back into his seat, chuckling softly. The alcohol certainly loosened everyone, he decided, because in no other scenario would he expect the three Gryffindors to accept his presence this easily. Especially after he created the crack that destroyed Hermione and Ron's relationship.

"I remember Viktor Krum brooding about you after that second task," Malfoy added. The Durmstrang students and Slytherins got along quite well during the tournament. He certainly tried to befriend the famous quidditch seeker. "He couldn't believe you stole second place from him."

Hermione nodded in agreement, "_Vould you believe it? A boy of fourteen defeating vorld-famous quidditch star Viktor Krum?_"

Her Bulgarian accent was way off, which led to another round of laughter.

When Malfoy first sat down at their table, the stares were incredulous. He was certain his plan to explain already failed, but there was no turning back now. He took a deep breath and unleashed everything: how Voldemort assigned him to the assassination of Dumbledore, a seemingly impossible task; the fact that his family's safety depended on him completing it. He told them of the disgust he felt watching his Aunt Bellatrix and Fenrir Greyback come through the Vanishing Cabinet, and the vague hope he felt when Dumbledore offered him protection.

His slightly drunk audience listened without interruption until then. Harry nodded his head at the last part, having been frozen at the astronomy tower. "You lowered your wand," he said in a whisper, staring emphatically at Malfoy.

Draco broke his rival's gaze, "Yeah, but I did horrible things after that. I even tried to bring you to _him _during the Battle. I thought it would fix… everything. Still, you saved my life."

If it hadn't been for Harry, he and Goyle would never have escaped the Room of Requirement. "You saved mine too," he responded. "At your mansion."

It was true that he recognized Harry through his swollen face, but did that one act make up for all the others? Hermione wondered the same thing. It impressed her how open and welcoming Harry was being, but she stung with resentment. Throughout their youth he insulted her blood and questioned her right to practice magic. He had been nearby when his aunt tortured her. He fought against them until the very end. She needed to know if his apologies were real.

"So, is that it? You've seen the error of your ways?" Hermione asked.

"I'm still prone to certain prejudices, Hermione," Draco admitted. "But I can assure you that I'm not bathing in the blood of muggle-borns."

The tension began to break with a snort from Neville. He raised his glass of firewhiskey. "If there's one sentiment I can approve of toasting to, it has got to be that."

The night continued on with stories, laughs, and drinks. Hermione felt better than she had all month, especially when she managed to pull a smile from Malfoy while relaying the story of punching him in third year. Harry countered for him, bringing up the short but embarrassing period of time when Hermione dated Cormac McLaggen.

A short time past midnight, Harry stood. He announced that if he didn't arrive home soon Ginny would be waiting with a curse, which was not an idle threat. Neville thanked everyone for celebrating with him before the two staggered off and drunkenly apparrated out.

"There really should be a law about apparrating under the influence," Hermione said. "I am sure accidents would be down by—"

"Would you like to take a walk with me?" Draco interrupted while he offered his hand to her.

She stared at him queerly. She almost forgot he was there or at least who he really was. She felt foggy, not quite making the connection of his question and his outstretched hand. The pub seemed stuffy then and fresh air the perfect solution. Her finger wrapped around his, and he pulled her gently from the seat and guided her onto the streets of Hogsmeade. At this hour all the shops were closed and only The Three Broomsticks outpour of light and sound filled the road as they passed.

Draco stopped when the train station came into sight, and he tugged at Hermione's hand. She felt a flutter in her stomach when he met her eyes, but she found herself desperately wishing she had full control of her senses. Drinking around Draco Malfoy would stop immediately, she vowed.

"I needed to tell you," he started. Had this been the same opening he used at The Leaky Cauldron? Being impaired around Hermione Granger needed to end from here on out, he declared. "I meant everything I said earlier. I do regret what I've done. But, I wanted you to know that you… you affected me more than I wanted to admit."

"Affected?" she squeaked out.

"You were the first muggle-born I knew, really. Obviously, I was surrounded by them at school, but I couldn't even remember their names. I was jealous of you, I think. You were always the best. I couldn't handle that so I hated you."

This confession was the furthest thing from what she expected. She stood, hands clasped with him in the darkness of Hogsmeade, her brow furrowed. She wanted to say that it didn't matter anymore, but she could see the desperation in his eyes. Then again, maybe it did matter. She hadn't been brooding over him (not until he reappeared at least), but there was a piece of her that never moved on. She nodded, acknowledging she understood and encouraging him to continue.

"I always felt this… burning desire because of you," Draco said, grimacing at how truthful he was being. "It wasn't physical desire. Not until our sixth year, in that detention, when nothing seemed more important than having you."

Hermione blushed and found her voice. "Did that satisfy you?"

He almost let out a laugh before he realized she didn't mean if it sexually satisfied him. His satisfaction at the time was clearly evident. "No, you were still there. Plaguing me worse than before."

She let out a shaky breath. She built her whole world around her work and her relationship with Ron. Now that one half of that was gone, seemingly for good, she didn't know where to go. At the very least, Hermione knew that she could not fill the void Ron left. They were together romantically for four years and best friends for so much longer. The very reminder that he wasn't in her life anymore made Hermione queasy, and Draco's excessively honest confession did not help.

"Where does that leave us now?" she asked, taking a step back. This suddenly seemed all too real and serious.

The movement unnerved Draco. He stumbled on his next words, "I-I would like to take you out."

Hermione's eyes widened in shock. "On a date?"

"Yes. This upcoming Friday, on Halloween."

She managed a laugh but nodded her acceptance. It seemed preposterous to her that a witch and a wizard would be going out on Halloween, but then again, it also seemed unreal that the wizard happened to be Draco Malfoy.


End file.
